


Like Sunlight

by kibahshi



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Affection, Alt-Mode Sexual Interfacing, Developing Relationship, Gentle Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Oral Sex, Post-Coital Cuddling, Size Difference, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Trust, Wet & Messy, could be messier, is part of it, just the oral tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 09:23:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13877934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibahshi/pseuds/kibahshi
Summary: "Trust me."And damn it all, Misfiredid---Misfire's never had a good track record dealing with his heat cycles alone. Luckily someone's around who's willing to lend a hand... and won't judge him for it either.





	Like Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DinobotGlitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinobotGlitch/gifts).



> Another fill for [@maccadams-filthy-fills !!!](https://maccadams-filthy-fills.tumblr.com) Here's the [prompt!](https://maccadams-filthy-fills.tumblr.com/post/163835724697/mech-a-preferably-misfire-but-any-mech-is-good)
> 
> "Mech A (preferably Misfire but any mech is good) going into heat and Grimlock going to town on his valve in dinomode, and then they fuck. Whether Grim's still in Dino mode or bot mode is up to writer discretion."
> 
> There was already a fill for this prompt, but it was too good for me to turn down, especially because it features two of my favorite boys! (love those scavengers mwah) The other fill can be found on the blog also so go give it a peek because it is also delightful! 
> 
> This was started and continued with a disregard for LL so its following a lot more characterization that was garnered from MTMTE, and Revolution, as well as my personal preference for writing these two!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this OP!!!

It had been awhile, and it was just as awful as Misfire remembered. 

Not awhile since Misfire had self-serviced, no, but since he’d _started_ , and even longer since Krok, Spinister, Crankcase, and Fulcrum had all left to manage that trade deal they’d picked up before stopping on this planet. A trade deal involving... excavation, or something. Or some kind of search, that would be easier done with two fliers than one and three grounders, with two of which weren’t even that.

He checked his chronometer, finding that what he’d thought was one was three. Three since the crew had left him at what was admittedly his own urging, and three since Krok’s ‘talk’ that had succeeded in being awkward for them both, with– damn him– Misfire’s best interests at the heart.

Misfire was _fine_.

Just thoroughly and miserably caught up in the start of his alarmingly regular heat cycles at the worst possible time, like always, with his fingers lodged so far up and so uselessly in his valve that he might as well have been tasting them.

It’s not that they weren’t doing anything because, oh, they were; the puddle under his aft and the strings of lubricant viscously bowing between his fingers were honest testament to that. It was just that... it wasn’t enough. 

Not enough, and chances were it wouldn’t be enough no matter what, and this would only end once Misfire overloaded himself to unsatisfied exhaustion. He would only be free when he went into stasis until Spinister came and brought him back online, and that was exactly why Krok had That Talk with him. With him, and only meeting his optics some of the time, but still. They had talked, and it was embarrassing, and it was terrible, and it was all Misfire could have done to get him and the others off the ship and focused on the job asap so he could get back to seeing how many digits he could stuff in himself before he passed out.

Which brought him to now– his mouth pressed to the back of his hand as he bemoaned the long-but-not-long-enough length of his fingers from within the confines of his own room. As he sought some of the deeper set nodes in his valve walls and squirmed, thighs twitching and the tips of his pedes jammed hard against the berth cushion, he awkwardly tried to thumb his node in an effort to get just a little more stimulation. It was futile, of course, just like when he followed it up by pressing his fingers in and out of himself almost carelessly. He was close, but not close enough, _never_ close enough. He was upset, and exhausted, and _tired_ .

“Misfire?”

His optics snapped open, seeking the other bot’s like a missile. Grimlock stared back, the heavy head of his alt mode tilted in... in... God, he didn’t know. Goodbye, sense, hello, mortification. He floundered, mouth working again and again, but for nothing until, finally–

"...Hey buddy," he replied lamely, and it took him much longer to remove his fingers from his valve than he'd like to admit, his calipers clenched needily as he pulled them out. Their absence was replaced by strings of lubricant connecting his fingertips to his swollen folds. Not looking away from where the Dinobot was looking concernedly down at him from the door, he mumbled, "Thought I, uh, locked that?"

Grimlock shook his head slowly.

"Open," he grunted, vocalizer echoey and warped as it tended to be when he was in his alt mode.

A cold dread washed over Misfire. "It was unlocked?"

Grimlock looked at him dubiously, then glanced once to the door and back. He met Misfire's optics far more easily than Misire was meeting his.

"Door was _open_." He said it in the way someone would tell you that water was wet.

‘Well, shit,’ he thought, cringing.

He could only clear his throat awkwardly and hastily wipe his wet hand on his berth. Generally, he'd be the first to admit to his minimal boundaries; whether it came to conversation and him prodding where people didn't want him, or saying things people didn't want to hear, or even to touch, he simply didn't have them. Didn't _heed_ or subscribe to them like others did, preferring to jump feet first into everything and deal with the consequences later.

But as a general _rule_ , accidentally giving the largest of his shipmates the opportunity to walk into his room to be immediately greeted with the sight of his valve stretched and dripping around three of his fingers didn't count as any of those things.

The... _sensitive_ atmosphere– the air in Misfire's room all but soaked with the smell of arousal; the smell of Misfire and _heat_ – wasn't evidently lost on the Dinobot. Grimlock narrowed his eyes.

"Misfire's... _okay_?" he asked slowly, like speaking to a frightened animal, and Misfire nodded rapidly to the point his neck ached.

"Yep!" He blurted, voice high and giddy as embarrassment started to set in. "Yep, everything's totally a-okay, Grimsy, sorry to spook you!" He threw up a pair of finger guns, hoping Grimlock wouldn't focus on how much... shinier, one of his hands still was than the other. He also took a moment to close his legs, pressing his thighs tightly together just for good measure and ignoring the needy throb from down below. "You can mark good ol' Misfire down on the 'Totally Fine and Epically Cool' list."

Grimlock stared at him blankly, and after the first ten seconds (which felt easily like ten _hours_ , because God could the bot _stare_ ) the finger guns wavered. His coding sent him more hungry pings and his valve clenched on nothing. Misfire could still feel lubricant dripping copiously down his aft and hoped none was dripping down onto the berth where Grimlock could see. The finger guns trembled.

"Okay, so," he started, voice tiny and just above being a squeak, "maybe I'm not so fine... But I'll get there!"

He tried to think of how exactly he'd go about that, and how long he'd been at this. Heat was especially miserable for him, being that his charge tended to spit itself back at itself, which typically resulted in him being trapped in a desolate loop that he fondly called _literally every time he went into heat_.

(He hadn't yet decided if the dreaded affair had earned the epithet of being called a redux, or 'the remix' because, oof, that seemed like a whole lot of remixes. Maybe even enough for an entire cover album.)

Honestly, he should have taken up Krok on his offer to have Spinister put him under for a week so he could let his body work this out on its own without the raging arousal and desperate need, but had he? Nooo, because no, Krok, he could totally work it out, you guys just go and do your trading and I'll be just fine on the ship. Alone. With his hands, and toys he'd probably end up breaking before they did anything for him, or would break down just as it was getting _good_.

"Always bad?"

Misfire winced. "That obvious, huh."

The Dinobot nodded, the movement seeming so heavy because of his size, and why wouldn't it be obvious? Misfire's room still _stank_ of him, and probably felt as swelteringly hot to anyone else as it did to himself. He also knew how loud he could be once he got into it– or rather, got whatever he wanted into _him_.

He sighed, pushing himself up to sit, and he felt rivulets of lubricant drip further down his aft. "Sorry for bothering you, Grimsy."

"Spinister knows?"

Misfire nodded, rubbing his optics and the bridge of his nose. "It's normal, Grim. Spin knows. Just another day in the life and all that."

"Want help?"

Misfire's hand froze and his optics snapped up to look at the Dinobot, staring. Grimlock was still standing in the doorway, not having taken a single step forward or a single step back from when he'd first walked in on him. Scanning Grimlock's face – which was actually _easier_ when Grimlock was _in_ his dino mode, and curiously not the other way around – Misfire wasn't able to find even a single twitch of any plate that would confirm that the bot was teasing him. There wasn't a hint of lechery either.

It was just... Grimlock being Grimlock, apparently. Misfire _whimpered_.

"Would you?" He squeaked, and Grimlock finally stepped forward, taking only a moment to close the door behind him (Good ol' Grimlock. So many good ideas.) before continuing his approach. Each step felt like a countdown, almost, until Grimlock was finally standing in front of Misfire in all of his big, Dinobot-y glory.

...He was still a t-rex, though.

He looked him up and down, from his optics to his... codpiece? Was that the right word when your apparent partner was an _actual t-rex_?

"Um, Grimsy?" He laughed weakly. "I think you need to transform first."

"Hmmmn," was the only noise the Dinobot made as he nudged one of Misfire's knees with his snout, nuzzling insistently until Misfire finally caved and opened up just a little.

Which was apparently enough, and Misfire let out an inelegant squawk as that large snout abandoned where it had been nuzzling his knee to press even more insistently _between_ , and he felt something prod insistently just beneath his hips.

"Grim– Grim _what_ –" he gasped, bringing a hand down to rest and press gently at Grimlock's head before he saw the glint just beneath the bot's lipplates and it was then that it hit him.

Teeth. Those were Grimlock's _teeth_ , he realized, and the shock was just enough of an opening for Grimlock to get the right angle with his jaws to get Misfire's _entire goddamn pelvic span into his fucking mouth_. A small shriek of indignant surprise escaped his vocalizer, set in near binary.

"Grim," Misfire babbled, more insistent than before, while patting the Dinobot's nose determinedly as the tip of the Dinobot's snout reached further up his belly as the bot settled him further into his mouth, "look, whatever you're doing, this is a little, uh– look, I don't _know_ –"

Was he trying to tell Grimlock not to eat him? Probably, but he didn't want to hurt the Dinobot either, and continued to keep his presses and pats gentle on what he knew was plating laden with delicate sensors.

Grimlock simply huffed around him, bathing his abdomen, back and most of all, his swollen array with wet heat that had his hand sliding rather than petting before falling to almost cradle the massive head as he all but choked on a moan, and then on a gasp as an even wetter heat laved over his swollen valve.

" _Grimlock_ –" he whimpered, and when he looked down, the Dinobot opened up his optics to look at him.

"Relax," the Dinobot rumbled, and Misfire now thought it a little _merciful_ that Grimlock’s audio didn't come from his mouth when he was in his alt mode, otherwise all the vibration would be directly against his tender valve.

"Got you," he said, and shut his optics once more, laving his tongue over the lips of Misfire's valve, brushing his node and the sensitivity of it all had Misfire dragging his fingers ineffectually against Grimlock's lipplates, his back falling against the berth padding.

"Trust me."

And damn it all, Misfire _did_ – even like this, with Grimlock perfectly able to all but bite through him if he wanted to.

...Or perhaps because they were like this, and Misfire could only hum and attempt to lift his leg to hook around the Dinobot’s helm as he pressed more determinedly at him with his tongue, catching all that had been running down his aft with a single lick all the way right back to his node before moving on to press at his valve lips more firmly.

The touches danced between being firm and little rough, and maddeningly gentle; Grimlock was taking great care to use the tip of his glossa as carefully as he could to ignite the nodes in his valve rim and trace the soft shapes of his protoform before laving his tongue more heavily against them, slow and tortuous until Misfire was twitching his hips against his tongue as much as he could when he was in the trap of his jaws before switching to the other side. Leave it to someone with an actual mouth in his alt mode to know how to use it on someone like this, even though it left Misfire with the lingering questions of who and when until the the feeling of Grimlock pressing against his surely leaking entrance distracted him. He could hardly tell anymore, not when both Grimlock's saliva was mingling with whatever fluids were still on and around his array, combined with the heady heat his mouth was emitting.

And speaking of heat, well, there was no denying that his coding was positively eating all this attention right up, even to the point that it all but overrode what instinctive coding he had to be even a little afraid of the precarious situation he was in– one shock, if Grimlock even got a _little_ startled and clenched his jaw then he... he could...

He felt as much as he heard Grimlock's pleased hum as he felt himself get wetter, his calipers clenching down greedily on the dinobot's tongue, and he let out a sobbing whimper as the dinobot pulled his glossa out just enough to slide it along his anterior wall to pull across his node. The dampness of his mouth combined with the heat of his breathing wafting out and slipping even along his thighs and chest through the dinobot's teeth was torture on Misfire’s aching node. The overloads he'd brought himself to before Grimlock had come in had already left it sensitive, but the extra heat on his frame that already felt like he was burning up from the inside was...

"Good?" Grimlock rumbled, and it took Misfire a couple tries at getting the words– much less hear what Grimlock was _saying_ – against his mounting protocols and his cooling fans ratcheting higher.

Ultimately, he failed, and could only thumb Grimlock's snout gently, pressing his knuckles against his mouth when the dinobot rumbled again– this time on a coarse sounding chuckle that honestly didn't help him with his desire whatsoever.

It was a rough sound, but undeniably charming, just like when it would be raised up and into boisterous, cackling laughter now and then whenever the dinobot and Spinister found something particularly funny and spent the better part of the afternoon laughing over it.

At times like those, however, the sound didn't also make him feel like he was ready to drown a mech with his valve, and he felt almost... _shy_ when Grimlock let out another noise– this time pleased– as he dipped in against his opening once more.

If Grimlock hadn't been laving at his valve, Misfire was certain he'd be lubricating down his aft. His valve was a mess of needy clenching, and it took less self-control than he expected to keep his spike locked away. Grimlock had hardly done anything and it was already so much better than anything he'd been doing for himself all this time.

But it still wasn't enough, and he could feel the burning point of heat that crowned the sensitive lips of his valve searing sharper and sharper the more Grimlock breathed. Close, but not enough. He rubbed the ridges of Grimlock's upper lip, whining as he tried for words. Grimlock looked at him, but didn't cease the careful yet hungry assault.

"H-Higher. My. My _node_ , buddy– Grimsy, please, please I'm so _close_ –"

The request seemed to please the dinobot, who chuffed as his tongue swept from just below where the bottom of Misfire's valve was all the way up through his valve lips before circling and pressing hard on his node, firm and insistent with just enough movement, just enough _pressure_ that–

He shrieked as he overloaded messily, Grimlock's tongue massaging him through it as he practically drank him down, cleaning him off as Misfire went lax, his legs falling slack and one sliding off Grimlock's back where they'd evidently tightened like a vice– as much as they _could_ – around the mech's transformed helm. He could feel the cables in his thigh tremble all the way up to his hip and it felt like too much of a relief to continue holding it taut. He let it fall to the side, ignoring the faint scraping sensation originating in his lower struts.

Grimlock let out one last heavy breath before finally opening his jaws and, with some careful shifting, lowered Misfire’s hips onto the berth. The warm air around them turned swiftly cold against the oral solvents that painted the jet’s array. and he couldn't hold back a displeased whine as the dinobot sat back up. Cold was generally a good thing when one was in heat, but it didn't feel good this time. All it did was leave Misfire's array awash with mixed signals, both enough and not enough and he wiggled. The saving grace was that he didn't feel as wet with his own fluids down there as he usually did, so he tried to lay back and relax.

But it did feel rather nice, as time went on; as his body adjusted to the temperature,he was able to bask in the euphoria of a decent overload that didn't spit back at itself ad infinitum. It settled nicely in his chamber, making his stomach and hips feel warm and finally– finally– he was able to settle. Settle, and let his helm loll to the side at the sound of a familiar transformation sequence to see Grimlock on his knees at the end of the berth.

Misfire smiled, lifting his arms and almost– _almost_ – laughing at the raising of the ridges that crowned Grimlock's visor.

"C'mere, big guy," he hummed, wiggling his fingers when the dinobot hesitated and running his hands up those silver arms when Grimlock finally settled back between his splayed thighs.

‘A pretty good place for him,’ Misfire thought to himself, and reached down to press his fingers against Grimlock's wide panels, his other hand feeling the shudder that coursed through the larger bot's shoulders. It didn't take much – but certainly did quite a bit for Misfire's already burgeoning pride – for the dark panels to slide back and for Grimlock's spike to extend against Misfire's hips and over his own closed spike housing almost instantly. A bead of transfluid painted a slick line over his plating, with yet more smearing over Misfire's thumb when he whisked it over the broad head.

Grimlock huffed once more, visor dimming, and it was only as Misfire abandoned the spike extended over his panel to wrap his arms around Grimlock that he conceded to the insistent pressure of Misfire trying to tug him against him. Misfire rubbed his cheek against the side of the dinobot's helm, feeling the warm wafts of air from the slits in Grimlock's mask against his exposed protoform as he did.

Still. Not _entirely_ what Misfire was wanting, and he lifted his hips against Grimlock's own where the bot was curled over him. He could feel himself start to grow wet again, feel the faintest rivulet of lubricant drip down sensitive plating, and the angry, nagging coil of heat starting to churn in his spark and gut.

"Go on," he crooned, wrapping his arms around Grimlock's neck. "I trust you."

He said that, but he was never quite prepared– no matter who he was with– for the initial feeling, and how utterly different a pliable glossa felt compared to a solid spike against his calipers. It reached deeper, and got deeper than his fingers had already stretched him. It felt better as it slid in against his nodes, and lit up his sensors with sharp pleasure that hit like a punch on its way out thanks to the ridges that were evidently detailed along the dinobot's length.

Misfire hadn't gotten a good look at it, but supposed that in a situation like this, _feeling_ was believing, and seeing had very little to do with it.

Grimlock's fingers tightened around his hip, his other arm bracing him in his curl over Misfire's frame as he remained still inside Misfire's valve. A courtesy, Misfire supposed. Care, even. It was hard to believe at times that Grimlock had once been a Con, but he supposed that really went for all of their hodgepodge of a crew.

...he did appreciate it, though. It let him feel like Grimlock hadn't forgotten his previous trepidation, and like Misfire wanting this actually meant something. He'd been in heat for the better part of the day, and his valve felt like it had been stretched enough by his own fingers before Grimlock had gotten his mouth on him. He supposed fingers weren't a spike though, and neither was a tongue, and felt that the shudder garnered when he felt his valve clench and calipers work over the ridged length were a testament to that. He clung to Grimlock just a touch tighter, though he knew deep down how firmly he had to be holding the dinobot; it was lucky Grimlock was built sturdy, otherwise Misfire was afraid he'd have dented his helm.

It didn't seem to affect the dinobot any beyond prompting Grimlock to slide his arm under Misfire's back, bringing it to bow into the curve of Grimlock's own body, and taking weight off his wings.

He opened his mouth, swiping his glossa over where he hadn't realized he'd been biting into his lower lip. He lifted his hips as best he could, rocking them lightly against Grimlock's pelvic plating.

"G-Go for it, killer," he laughed breathily, scraping his fingertips against his own elbow when Grimlock nodded and pulled back slowly.

One thing Misfire had learned from years of trysts, and few accompanied heats, was that while the initial thrust was intense– good at times, not so much at others– he'd learned that in comparison, the second was practically earth-shattering; with one's components adjusted and primed and ready, there wasn't much left to do but feel. All the primary discomfort was already overlooked and even sooner forgotten, and boy, was Misfire forgetting it. He was actually somewhat glad that he'd worked off a bit of charge himself before this (and thanked Grimlock to hell and back as well, internally laying praises at his pedes for _his_ wonderful assistance) otherwise he was worried he'd have been begging by now.

Instead he just squeezed Grimlock's waist with his thighs, clutching at his own elbow once more as the cycle continued in and out, and couldn't help pressing the side of his helm against the very warm side of Grimlock's own. With each carefully timed thrust, he could feel himself grow even more accustomed. It wasn’t long until the initial foreignness of it faded and the desperate babble of heat protocols demanded that they skip all this and just give him what he _needed_ in the form of a good (read: indiscriminate) pounding and– better yet– a forge full of transfluid had dwindled to a faint whisper and he could actually enjoy the act for what it was. Enjoy the feeling of all of his nodes being stimulated by the ridges along Grimlock's spike and pressed against firmly with each solid movement.

He sighed, relaxing his grip on his own frame to shift his hand from his joint to slip it under Grimlock's arm to settle solidly on his broad side.

"G-Good?" Grimlock asked, and Misfire blinked through the pleasant haze of exactly that clouding his processor to nod and lay his head back and look up at the vibrant band of red that was Grimlock's visor.

"Mmmmmmhm~" Misfire hummed, bringing his other hand down to rub the gold plate of Grimlock's chest. "It's good. Reeeal good. Promise. You're doin' so good, Grimsy."

There was a little bit of hesitance there, however, in the way Grimlock nodded, the way his fingers twitched where they were still supporting the curve of Misfire's spinal strut and keeping them close. It was a way that Misfire probably wouldn't have recognized, had it not been for the amount of time he spent with the dinobot. He trailed his fingers over the mech's side, plucking along the seams in search of reaction, but only got one when he neared the mech's hip. _That_ got the mech to jump.

Grimlock's spike pressed into him harder and much quicker than before and the sudden, more forceful impact had Misfire clenching – which, of course, had Grimlock curling even tighter over him as he shuddered. The arm still bracing Grimlock had tensed where Misfire could see it above his head, and his fist had clenched tight enough that you'd think he'd be sooner ready to punch someone than... than...

"Been awhile, huh?"

Grimlock nodded stiffly, and it took Misfire a second of wiggling combined with half a second of confidence to stretch his legs out to hook them up and around Grimlock's (beautifully) wide hips, locking at the ankle just above the bottom of his aft. As he did so, he slipped his hand from Grimlocks chest to his hand, prodding insistently at his palm until he was able to worm their fingers together. It stretched his arm above him in a way that wouldn't be nearly as comfortable had his back not been bowed, or had he not been quite so bendy. Grimlock stared at him, but as it was, it was just about perfect.

"Don't gotta hold back," he explained. "When I said go for it, I _meant_ –"

Misfire brought his hips back before Grimlock could register what he was doing – taking great care to give a notable clench as he did so – and immediately pushed back down with a hungry sound. It took more out of him than he'd expected with his protocols pinging incessantly, but it had wrenched a choked noise out of the dinobot, and a desperate clutch at Misfire's hand until he'd remembered they were tangled. It was a good start, but he wanted more.

“– _Go_ for it. Show me how a dinobot does it, huh? If you didn't hurt me back when you coulda bit me in two– _super_ hot by the way, just wanted to let you know– then I don't think you'd hurt me now." His valve gave a needy pulse at the lack of movement, but there was still continued pressure against his nodes, and he couldn't help but bear down again, biting back a moan. 

It was with another breath of hesitance that Grimlock moved, shifting forward with a heavier rock of his hips against Misfire's own, and the jet couldn't help the squeal that escaped him as the tip of the spike found purchase against one of his deeper set nodes, clutching Grimlock's hand tight as he tried (for once) to bring his volume down. The tailend of the squeal melded into a gasp, and he cracked open his optics to find Grimlock looking at him yet again.

"P-Perfect. Perfect, Grim, that was _perfect_." He rocked his hips, relishing in the way the ridges at the base of Grimlock's spike ground at his exterior node and the most prominent part of his valve lips. But especially his node. It prompted Grimlock to shift his hips also, stimulating deep sensors as Misfire rutted his valve against the dinobot's lap. " _God_ , go wild. I can take it. I'll tell you if you gotta stop, promise."

He was too into what little he was doing to catch Grimlock's satirically dubious look in its entirety, practically bouncing against the mech's pelvis by the time Grimlock pressed his weight down against Misfire's hand. The dinobot slid his own further down Misfire's back so it was Misfire himself keeping him arched toward his bulk, just before hauling back and surging _forward_ before Misfire could make any complaint about being robbed of his fun.

Misfire locked his legs tighter around Grimlock's hips as the mech’s movements grew in confidence and intensity, scraping his fingers over where his hand was still placed on his back, grasping for purchase against any ridges or seams as he continued to have to hitch his legs higher and higher again and again, every shift inside him punctuated by a poorly restrained – but gleefully given – gasp or moan or cry. It was only when Grimlock shifted his hips, grinding Misfire's exterior node against the ridge he'd been rubbing against just prior that it wrenched a higher yelp and caused one of the jet's legs to slip from Grimlock's hip and skid down his thigh with an abrasive grind that he felt all the way up his own.

Having found his rhythm, Grimlock barely reacted, slowing only to take his palm from Misfire's back and settle it on his aft, coaxing his legs to settle higher. Only when he was sure that Misfire's grip was solid did he hunker back down over him, curling closer until Misfire's helm was closer to his spark that his shoulder, and Misfire could wrap his own arm more easily around Grimlock's back.

Other than feeling... well, euphoric, thrilled, and a little overwhelmed, even as Misfire started to give in to the heat-ridden code trying to claw its way into the forefront of his mind, he felt actually pretty safe. Like he was in the safest place he could be, honestly. Anyone else would probably panic being clutched this close, ready to have their helm crushed or be dismembered or something grisly like that, but Misfire just felt safe... Safe, and satisfied all the way down to his heated core... Safe, and having the _time of his bloody goddamn life_.

And it was actually a wonder what feeling safe and protected could do for his charge, honestly.

He could feel even now how his charge wasn't spitting back at itself and trapping him in the miserable loop; how he wasn't aching as much now that it wasn't just him hooking his digits inside himself to try and get at those pesky, oversensitive nodes that would surely get him off, but would leave him with wicked wrist ache even trying to get at them. How something made to help relieve that charge actually _helped_ , with that statement aimed directly at all of his toys, jury-rigged or actually obtained from a respectable dealership, whether he actually paid for them being a completely separate matter he wasn't about to bring up. 

There honestly wasn't anything like a proper bot. Not for heat, and he relished the way he could feel those warm wafts of air against him again, this time from Grimlock's vents as that strong arm cradled him close against the mech's chest, the vibrations of his not-quite-engine working beneath his armor like some kind of mood music accompanying both his and Grimlock's sounds of pleasure, his higher gasps and moans underlaid by Grimlock's deeper, coarse and raspy sounding grunts and sighs.

He wasn't sure how he was going to avoid getting as wet as a goddamn marsh the next time the dinobot and Spinister tried to make an honest attempt at sparring together, but as Grimlock's spike caught that node in him from before, he deemed that a _then_ problem, and fully embraced the 'now' that was currently spike deep in him.

"G-Good?" Grimlock asked again– _rasped_ really, and it thrilled Misfire to no end to have even _more_ audible proof that Grimlock was enjoying this too.

He nodded, digging his fingers in hard to Grimlock's back as he gasped and whined around what might as well been mouthfuls of words he simply couldn't get out, too busy marvelling how Grimlock had hardly paused beyond slowing down now and then to tortuously grind into him. On top of that, he couldn't even feel dents in any of the places he'd been desperately hanging onto. 

But right. Grimlock was probably waiting for a proper, eununciated response.

"Mm-Mmhmm!" 

_Nailed it_.

"Misfire?"

Didn't nail it enough, apparently. He gasped as Grimlock yet again rolled his hips, lighting up his nodes slowly and carefully compared to the solid thrusts igniting many in firm but fleeting contact. He shuddered, his wings twitching spasmodically and the tips of his pedes bending to points. Misfire turned to press his cheek rather than his forehead to Grimlock's chestplates, shakily smoothing his hand over his back.

"I-I'm good. Oh, Primus, I'm really, _reeeally_ good. Promise, promise. Please, Grimmy–"he rocked his hips, trying his best to meet the undulation of the dinobot's as Grimlock made another slow roll into him but not quite meeting pace, his hips coming down just as Grimlock’s went back. He let out a warble of distressed binary. “ _Please_ , Grim, you’re killing me here.”

Grimlock chuffed, and Misfire felt the careful scrape-rub of metal against his helm, his spark warming– completely separate from his heat– when he recognized it as a nuzzle. “Good enough.” The mech’s voice was raspy, clearly not unaffected. He really did want this, but he wanted Misfire to enjoy it too. Was willing to stop, near entirely, to make sure he was.

He clenched hungrily, just as Grimlock pressed more heavily inside, and Misfire must have come down on something good, as Grimlock echoed his moan. He all but squashed Misfire to him as they both shuddered, Misfire scraping his heels yet again against the dinobot’s back. Grimlock held him like he wanted to squeeze the all the heat-tainted air right out of his vents, unrestained, and Misfire sucked in as much cool air as he could, gasping for it when the dinobot finally realized his mistake. 

“Good spot?” He laughed breathlessly, before Grimlock could dare fret, and rocked back down. “K-Keep it up. Close, Grimsy, I’m _close_ –”

Eager to please and requiring no further prompting, Grimlock held Misfire that extra bit closer, moved faster, _harder_ , until Misfire wouldn’t even be able to speak if he _tried_. He was too caught up in fully voicing his pleasure, and certainly beyond analyzing it. 

It was all so much, and all so good, and if they kept on like this, Misfire would crack the dinobot’s seemingly impenetrable topcoat eventually. By this point, he was almost longing to pull up delicate curls of Grimlock’s golden plating. Taxed, damp air felt cool against his hand but warmed just as quickly, all their exertion and desire seemingly trapping them in this warm bubble consisting entirely of them. Misfire would have considered the surrounding room– how it must have felt, how it must have smelled, surely reeking of heat and warmth and lubricant, stinking rawly of interface, but he couldn’t be bothered to comprehend much beyond what was immediately in front of him.

Grimlock, and warmth, and good, and gold, and _safe_. So, so _safe_ that he sobbed, trying to grind his node against Grimlock’s pelvic span with each press into him, hissing out pleas for Grimlock not to stop (please, _please_ ) while making the best attempts he could to meet those strong thrusts as they came. His energy was flagging, but his desire wasn’t, and he trembled but didn’t resist as Grimlock laid him down and palmed his spike cover, their other hands still entwined above Misfire’s head.

His spike extended greedily, and he shuddered with a half-whimper, half-moan, as Grimlock’s hand all but swallowed up the tricolored spike, only the slightest peeks of magenta and black and pink showing through the gaps Grimlock allowed between his fingers as he fisted the spike in time with his thrusts, hips shuddering sporadically every time he bottomed out. 

Misfire would have to offer to return the favor some time, and just the thought of Grimlock’s spike in his hand (Grimlock’s _valve_ under his fingers or better yet his _tongue_ , if Grimlock let him) had him arching, twisting between too much and not enough and bearing down and hearing Grimlock’s guttural snarl in his audial as though he was underwater as something spilled inside him before Grimlock’s thumb found his node and–

He fell back, vents straining and mechanisms seeming to heave as Grimlock braced himself above him once more with Misfire’s hand as his anchor, thumb trembling as it rubbed the side. His vents were straining and hot air puffed liberally from the slits in Grimlock’s mask as Misfire stared up at him. After a moment, Grimlock’s visor, fever bright, settled to a softer tone. His thumb found Misfire’s cheek gently, like handling something precious, and came away wet. 

Misfire laughed, his vocalizer hoarse, but not gratingly. He didn’t feel it in the mechanisms, and felt absolutely no pain; just warmth and the smallest twinges of ache, and there were no clearer signs of a good time than that aside from the similar warmth in his valve, still stretched around that thick spike.

He slid his arm from around Grimlock’s back, offering it back up to try and tug the dinobot close. The dinobot conceded, but only long enough to get his arm back under Misfire and roll onto his back carefully. Two ways to one goal, Misfire supposed, and pressed as close to the dinobot as he could, basking in the warmth seeping through Grimlock’s plating and the slowing hum of cooling fans. He could even feel his start to try and actually work _efficiently_ now that his protocols had been successfully sated somewhat.

But it was only day one, and Misfire knew better than to assume that this would be the end of it. He knew that this was only to help keep it from hitting him like a truck later. 

He traced doodles in the condensation forming on Grimlock’s chest as the air finally began to cool, taking a moment to bask in the goodness of it all, from Grimlock’s spike still in his valve to just that... safe feeling that had wrapped itself around him, almost like sunlight. He pressed his cheek to the gold metal, not lifting his fingers to make little moisture-borne stars.

“Grimmy?” He asked, and his answer was in Grimlock’s moving his hand from Misfire’s back to his helm, fingers tracing the lines in such a way that satisfaction thrummed its way down the cabling of Misfire’s nape. Still, he tested.

“My heat’s not over y’know.”

“Mmn.” The sound thrummed through Grimlock’s chest and, in correlation, into Misfire’s. It tickled.

He used the veeery tip of his finger to detail tinier stars, dotting in a manner almost obscenely tiny to link mindless constellations. “I’m gonna be insufferable.”

Grimlock chuffed. Misfire set set his hand lower, abandoning the tiny mural for now to look it over, glancing up at Grimlock to find him staring down, watching. Waiting. Giddiness blossomed in his chest.

“You. Can stay? I mean, if you want. If you aren’t busy, or nothin,” he drummed his fingers on Grimlock’s side. Grimlock covered them with his other hand, more tender than bothered. “Gonna be real lonely on the ship till the others get back...”

He didn’t specify if he’d be lonely or Grimlock, but he needed to play coy; at least _try_ and seduce the mech. 

The dinobot nuzzled his helm, brushing it in a way that sent tiny thrills of static against his plating, and he sputtered, laughing. 

“Here to help,” Grimlock rumbled, and Misfire snuggled against him. Slowly, he felt Grimlock’s fingertip against his wing making one line, and then another, until five lines met where they started and the warmth might have settled in Misfire’s spark permanently, and the satisfaction made his optics feel heavy.

“...Clean up, wouldja? I’d help, but–”

“Trust me.”

Misfire laughed quietly, like a breath, and traced another star of five, slow lines on Grimlock’s plating. 

“Yeah.”

Of course.

**Author's Note:**

> [@krokkadile](https://krokkadile.tumblr.com) on tumblr if you wanna hmu!!! Another big shout out [@dinobotglitch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dinobotglitch) for being a wonderful beta, as always, and a lovely inspiration due to a shared love of our wonderful boys <333


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